


emprestado para a noite

by horlik_aholic



Category: Football RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: ((theres probably only one definition of plot whatever)), M/M, Porn With Plot, Smut, Threesome - M/M/M, davi is mentioned also because how could i not mention that lil nugget, louis liam and harry are mentioned but theyre not actually in the fic, p much just straight porn, sort of plot idk depends on your definition of plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:51:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2472215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horlik_aholic/pseuds/horlik_aholic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Niall's phone password is 'Neymar'. </p><p>Zayn's not sure how he should feel about this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	emprestado para a noite

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have an excuse for this. 
> 
> im totally in love with the niall/neymar pairing and ziall is my otp which led to this http://hauntedziall.tumblr.com/post/95339311816/weyheyhorlik-imagine-zayn-niall-neymar and somehow ended up being this
> 
> also, as a disclaimer, i dont know a word of portuguese and i also dont know anyone who speaks portuguese, so any and all portuguese in this comes straight from google translate. please please, if you speak portuguese, let me know where i made mistakes (because im certain that i did, its inevitable when using google translate) so i can fix them!! on an unrelated note, i just used the word portuguese 5 times in the span of 3 sentences. 
> 
> unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own and i dont own any of the people mentioned and this is all purely fictional, dont share this with any of the people who appear in this fic, etc etc

Zayn swipes his thumb along the bottom of Niall’s lock screen, absentmindedly punching in the 6 letters that have become second nature to him. Usually he just does it without a word, long past feeling the need to give Niall shit about it-- sometimes though, like right now, it occurs to him how strange it actually is. 

He voices this thought to Niall, who’s spread eagle on their bed watching some football match that Zayn doesn’t care about. “You know, like,” he pauses, licking his lips when Niall glances over at him, “Should probably be weird that I have to type in another guy’s name to unlock my boyfriend’s phone, yeah?” He’s not actually bothered, thinks it’s a proper laugh, but he likes taking the piss every now and again. 

Niall rolls onto his stomach, bringing his weight onto his forearms to level a look at Zayn. “This again? Thought we’d gotten past this?” his eyebrows are raised in a challenge, and Zayn licks his lips again when he gets an idea.

He pushes them both forward, landing his weight square on Niall’s chest and catches the sharp exhale it forces out on his tongue, pressing in for a kiss. Niall huffs out a laugh and kisses him back, licking into Zayn’s mouth as he slots a thigh between Niall’s legs.

They kiss like that for a fair while, dirty and hot and open-mouthed. Zayn’s not playing fair, grinding down hard against Niall who’s doing everything he can just to keep up with the pace Zayn’s setting— desperately trying to keep from creaming his trousers over a little frottage like he’s 14 years old again. 

Zayn bites down on Niall’s bottom lip, catching it between his teeth and pulling away slowly. It snaps back into place and he laughs lightly when Niall chases his retreating mouth. 

"Christ, Malik, what’re ya having at? I was just sat here, minding me own business, trying to watch me rams-"

"Think your name is his lock combination, hmm?" Zayn cuts him off with a grin.

Niall just blinks dumbly, frowning as he processes the question, “Are you taking the piss? I don’t think-“

"Think he wants you as bad as you want him?"

Spluttering his way through a few seconds, Niall finally lets out an awkward laugh and brilliantly settles on, “What? No.”

"No what?" Zayn asks, grin bright on his face and thigh a maddening, persistent pressure against Niall’s crotch. 

"No he doesn’t— I don’t want him," Niall’s fighting his way through the haze fogging his brain, focus divided between forming an intelligent response and keeping himself from rutting up into his boyfriend, doesn’t want to give Zayn the satisfaction.

Zayn is relentless though, pushing forward more forcefully, “Don’t want who?”

Niall’s silent for a moment, eyes closed like he’s waiting for Zayn to roll off him with a laugh, maybe say “Gotcha!” and go back to watching the telly like it was all a big joke. No such luck though, and he eventually gasps out, “Don’t want— Neymar.”

Zayn can feel the lie against his leg, the way Niall’s dick gives a palpable jerk just from the weight of the name as it settles on his tongue. “Don’t think that’s true Nialler. Why don’t we get him here, like. See if he wants to join for a night. Think that’d be wicked, s’proper fit, though I don’t know a thing he’s saying. Might make for a bit of fun.”

Blunt nails grip hard at Zayn’s back as Niall gives in and fucks up hard against Zayn’s thigh. It takes him just one, two thrusts before he’s coming; Zayn not far behind. 

Lifting himself off the blonde, Zayn presses a quick kiss to his parted lips. “Think maybe that can be arranged, yeah?” 

* * *

 

Niall’s nearly positive Zayn’s forgotten. 

Niall still thinks about it a fair bit— he doesn’t want anyone the way he wants Zayn, but Neymar’s a lad and he’s fit to boot so Niall’d be mad not to want him just a little bit. 

He can’t imagine how Zayn would go about the whole thing even if there  _wasn’t_ the enormously inconvenient language barrier. Zayn could barely even understand  _Niall_  the first few months after the band was put together, let alone someone speaking an entirely different language. Just imagining Zayn trying to proposition Neymar to join them for a threesome was grounds for a good laugh (even if the idea of it always seems to bring a flush to his face that's just a touch on the wrong side of uncomfortable.)

Sure, it had made for a nice bit of dirty talk, but it just wasn’t realistic and they hadn’t discussed it again.

Which is why Niall thinks nothing of it a month later when he comes home from a day of golfing with Harry and is greeted by Zayn, crowding him up against the door and kissing him hungrily. 

Niall laughs and pushes him away gently, moving to put his clubs away and kick off his shoes. “Y’know Z, could always join me and Harry sometime, instead of texting me the whole bleedin’ day how much you miss me,” he pauses, looking up from his shoes to wiggle his eyebrows at Zayn suggestively, “The toilets at these Country Clubs are pretty swanky— roomy stalls, extra private, could always—”

He’s barely got his second shoe off before Zayn’s tugging him up, attaching their lips again. Niall can feel Zayn grinning into his mouth when he says, “Gotta surprise waiting for you upstairs, if you can manage to shut your gob for 2 seconds..”

That catches Niall’s attention quickly; last time Zayn said he had a surprise for Niall he’d not only discovered a small ‘N’ tattooed to Zayn’s inner thigh, but also that he has a bit of a tattoo fetish when the tattoos is for  _him_. Explains why Liam’s arrows were always his favorite.

"Alright Malik, y've got my attention," he says, not moving his mouth from where its pressed against Zayn’s. They’re not even kissing anymore, just smiling against each other, noses pressed together ridiculously.

They pause for a beat, just stood grinning, propping each other up, before Zayn goes cross-eyed and pushes forward to lick along Niall’s teeth. Niall jerks back in surprise and splutters out a laugh, about to react before he’s cut-off by Zayn turning on his heel and tugging Niall behind him, towards the stairs.

Niall’s still laughing when Zayn pushes open the door to their bedroom, but it dies in his throat when he sees. 

Neymar is sitting on their bed, hand fiddling with the bill of his snap back and grinning up at Niall sheepishly. 

"Hey Niall," he smiles, giving a little shrug as he looks over at Zayn.

Niall jumps at the bed, mindful of Neymar’s back as he tackles his friend in a hug. “Neymar! How ya been buddie! Uhh,” he pauses, testing out his limited knowledge of Portuguese. His vocabulary consists almost solely of what Neymar had taught him and what he’d picked up on last time they hung out, “Como você está?” 

Neymar just laughs some more, eyes crinkling with it and Niall wants to kiss him— turns to face Zayn when he realizes that he probably can. “Wait—” he starts cautiously, picking himself up off of Neymar to stand in front of Zayn, “Is this? How?” He tries to swallow but it gets stuck in his throat.

Zayn’s eyes crinkle in a smile, too, and Niall feels faint. “Turns out Google translate isn’t all that accurate, like,” he shrugs, running a hand through Niall’s hair, “But the biggest issue was actually finding a babysitter for Davi. Neymar was _very_  interested to hear that he’s your phone password… among other things.”

Turning, Niall looks between Zayn and Neymar, wiggling his eyebrows as a grin spreads across his face. 

He wants to ask Neymar about Davi, about football, about China and Singapore and all the other places he’s been posting about on Instagram, but that can wait. Instead, he strides over to where Neymar is now standing, knocks back his snap back and kisses the confused smile right off his face.

Neymar doesn’t hesitate, nips at Niall’s bottom lip and brings a hand up to curl around his neck. He feels Zayn press up behind him, litering the exposed side of his neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses and he lets out a soft whimper into Neymar’s mouth, pushing back against where Zayn’s body is planted firmly behind him. 

Zayn tips his chin back, nudging his nose at Niall’s ear, “Why don’t you get undressed for us, yeah?” 

Niall’s quick to oblige, eagerly shedding his white trousers and matching golf polo. He flops back on the bed, folding his hands behind his head when he catches sight of them. 

Zayn and Neymar are kissing tentatively, exploring. They take turns stripping each other’s shirts, Zayn’s fingernails dragging along the single quote on Neymar’s chest while Neymar’s eyes scan along Zayn’s sleeve.

He points to the snake on his bicep and trails his finger down the length of Zayn’s arm, stopping at the ZAP and curling around to finish at the microphone just below the crook of his elbow. “Sick,” he says earnestly, nodding down at the ink, and Zayn’s tongue presses up against the back of his teeth. 

Niall’s heart swells with pride—- he taught Neymar that last time they saw each other.

(He remembers cackling as Davi, all of 3 years old but still able to dribble circles around Niall, stole the ball from under his feet. The 3 year had jumped up and down excitedly, all Niall could wheeze out was an impressed “Sick!” 

Neymar had cocked his head at him, trying to reconcile what he knew the word “sick” to mean in context with how Niall was using it. Niall’d beckoned to the translator that had been around but that they’d mostly ignored and made him explain it to Neymar.

Neymar hadn’t stopped using the word for the rest of the day after that; let out a loud laugh every time he said it.)

He knows he’s staring but can’t be arsed to care; separately they’re beautiful but together they’re  _mesmerizing_ , all defined angles and dark features. He watches Zayn bring his mouth to the tattoo on Neymar’s neck, which he’d told Niall means ‘everything passes’ in English, and suck on it lightly. A soft whine crosses Niall’s lips as Neymar lets out a groan, and two pairs of eyes snap towards Niall.

They break apart, tugging distractedly at their remaining clothes as they stumble over to where Niall is spread out on the bed enraptured, swollen cock leaking against his stomach. 

Zayn and Neymar kneel side by side at the end of the bed, drinking in the sight of Niall spread out for  _them_ , flawless pale skin flushed a deep red. Zayn doesn’t even register getting Neymar’s dick in his hand, but next thing he knows Neymar’s got a grasp on his length as well, neither of them tearing their eyes away from Niall.

They’re getting off on Niall’s body alone, watching his stomach muscles jump and twitch as he ghosts his hand along his arousal, eyes flitting between Zayn and Neymar. He’s torn between the need to be touched and the desire to watch his two favorite people (and, coincidentally, the two most beautiful people) in the world getting each other off. 

Teasing along the head, Zayn swipes his thumb over the bead of pre-cum leaking out of Neymar’s slit. “Porra,” he breathes out almost inaudibly over the dry slap of skin, before adding more confidently, “Beautiful, Niall.”

Everything seems to snap into focus then, Niall’s back arching off the bed impatiently as Zayn and Neymar scramble into action. 

"C’mon, c’mon," Niall mumbles into Zayn’s mouth, who has slid up Niall’s body to capture him in a kiss. Neymar lingers near the end of the bed, kissing his way up Niall’s leg and around to his sensitive inner thigh. 

Niall feels Zayn rolling off to the edge of the bed, hazily registers him rooting around the drawer in the bedside table for lube when Neymar takes him into his mouth.  

He loses track of everything else, breaths coming in shallow pants because _Neymar_ , the star of the Brazilian World Cup Team and one of the most talented, most  _attractive_  football players in the world, is sucking his cock. Neymar takes him deeper, pushing his tongue up against the underside of Niall’s length and the blonde chokes out a moan, “Neymar,  _fuck_.”

He pulls off with a laugh, eyes crinkling with it, and the fucker actually  _winks_  at Niall— adorable and ridiculous and exaggerated and over the top and still impossibly sexy. Niall blindly reaches for Zayn and pulls him in for a kiss, rocking up into where Neymar’s palm has replaced his mouth, pressing heavily against Niall’s cock. 

"I fucking love you," he breathes into Zayn’s mouth, nipping at his bottom lip harshly. 

Zayn gestures to Neymar, head tipping forward, and the pair switch places seamlessly. Neymar straddles Niall’s torso and kisses him hungrily, alternating between sucking a bruise into Niall’s jawline and sucking on his tongue. He hears the quiet  _snick_  of Zayn popping open the cap of the lube, and there’s barely a pause before he feels Zayn’s hand jerking him off smoothly, lubricant cool against his hot arousal. Niall’s still licking into Neymar’s mouth, pushing up against where the footballer is grinding into Niall’s tummy, when he feels Zayn’s tongue press tentatively at his hole.

Niall can’t stop the way he arches into it, trapping Neymar’s cock between their bodies as he breathes Zayn’s name.

Zayn tongues his way into his boyfriend and Niall fucks down into it, letting out a whine followed by, “Fuck, Neymar, wanna get my mouth on ya.”

"O que?" he asks, looking lost, and Niall’s head thumps back in exasperation. He’d learned how to say cock in Portuguese (purely for scientific purposes, of course, and as something to call Louis when he’s being particularly unbearable), but he can’t think properly with Zayn’s tongue circling his entrance— instead he brings his hand towards his mouth and mimes sucking a dick, tongue poking obscenely at his cheek. 

Neymar’s eyes darken considerably when he catches on. “Yeah, Niall,” he breathes confidently, sitting back on his haunches to re-position himself where he’s straddling Niall’s chest. The angle is awkward but Niall takes him in his mouth as best as he can, teasing at the slit before closing his mouth around what he can reach and sucking hard. 

Whining, Neymar collapses forward so that his hands bang sharply against the headboard when he catches himself. Niall can feel Zayn nosing along his cock and he mewls, feeling his release coiling in his stomach. Zayn must feel the way his muscles tense because he pulls away, bringing a hand to rest on Neymar’s neck and says, “Together, yeah?”

Neymar must get the gist of it because he backs away reluctantly, cursing as his cock slips out of Niall’s mouth.

The two assume their positions at the end of the bed, hovering just over Niall’s body, and Zayn’s grips Niall’s erection along the base, still slick with lube. Following Zayn’s lead, Neymar’s hand lands just above Zayn’s, thumb and pinky overlapping as they work out a rhythm. It only takes a few quick pulls before Niall comes undone, jaw falling slack as his release coats the hands working him through his orgasm. 

"So good, so beautiful Niall," Neymar breathes, words hitching when Zayn’s cum slick hand grasps at his cock. He does the same, taking Zayn in his fist, and they’re thrusting into the other’s hand. Their eyes never leave Niall and moments later they’re both coming almost simultaneously, Neymar tightening his fingers around Zayn as he releases a second earlier, prompting Zayn’s release.

To everyone’s surprise, Neymar turns and captures Zayn’s lips in a kiss as they come down from their high. “Zayn,” he murmurs, and Niall’s spent dick gives a happy little twitch at the sound of his boyfriend's name rolling off Neymar’s tongue.

"Obrigado, uh," he pauses, pulling back and thumbing at Zayn’s bottom lip, "Thank you."

"Hey man, anytime," Zayn replies helplessly, not even attempting a response in Portuguese. Neymar just laughs, cuddling into Niall’s right side while Zayn makes himself comfortable on Niall’s left. 

"Isso foi so fucking _bom_ , Neymar,” Niall tries with a grin, laughing along when Neymar just shakes his head at him. 

He sees Neymar’s eyes start to droop, and hurriedly asks, “Davi?”

Neymar just grins tiredly and nods at Zayn, who’s been watching them. “Got the sitter till tomorrow, so he’s gonna spend the night with us. That cool?”

The Brazilian is already snoring lightly beside him, and Niall grins, turning his body fully towards Zayn. “More than,” he replies, ducking in for a sweet kiss before adding earnestly, “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” Zayn responds gently, nosing along Niall’s cheek sleepily, “Just wanna make you smile, y’know.”

"That okay?" he adds a beat later with a yawn, a sleepy afterthought. 

Niall laughs, kisses the crown of his head. He’s pretty sure Zayn’s already asleep by the time he answers, “Yes Zayn, I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the ending, i couldnt help myself. im a sucker for zayn calling niall to make him smile
> 
> come say hi on tumblr (hauntedziall) or twitter (@ziallhorrorstry) !


End file.
